Easier Said Than Done
by TessaSpencer
Summary: A new twist on how Sam and Tony entered Angela and Jonathon's life.


"Okay kids, now we have two teams here: the Robins and the Owls, so we're going to divide you up and for the rest of the summer you're going to be with that team. No trading, no switching.Alright?"  
  
There were a series of muffled grumbles from the kids as the teenage girl, dressed in khaki shorts and a blue Camp Onindaga t-shirt, made her way around the group. Her name badge read 'Annabeth' but below it in what appeared to be a permanent marker there was a hastily written 'Shoo'. As she met each child face on, she would alternate between "Robins" and "Owls".  
  
The kids quickly broke off into groups to see the people with whom they'd be playing, there were further complaints.  
  
"Why's my team mostly girls?" A tall brute looking kid sniveled as he realized that save for three other boys, their team of twelve was mostly of the other persuasion.  
  
"Because that's how it worked out," Shoo countered before looking over the teams. There really was a gender division with the one team boasting several more girls than the other team, but that was hardly something to worry about, and if anything it would be an interesting competition. "No switching, remember?"  
  
The boy growled before looking over his team once more, evaluating the odds of them winning the season.  
  
"Now, I want each team to sit down in groups and assign positions, okay? After we're all done with that, we're going canoeing!" Shoo stood up. "Start figuring this all out," she demanded, before sitting at the base of a tree where she could watch them from afar.  
  
**  
  
"I'm gonna be the pitcher," Samantha said, when nobody else had volunteered any kind of decision.  
  
"You can't pitch," the boisterous boy from earlier said frankly.  
  
"Oh yes I can," Sam countered, not allowing him to shake her confidence at all. "My dad was second baseman for the Cards, and I can pitch-he taught me."  
  
"Oh yeah? Well." When he couldn't think of a good enough argument, he quieted down. "I want right field."  
  
"Ricky, you just want to be able to watch all the girls run bases," his friend was apparently skeptical of his motivation. "I'm going to be first base," he finally added.  
  
"I want to be left field," a bubbly blonde who's name tag read 'Manda' shot up her arm in the air.  
  
"Now we're getting somewhere," Sam said, watching people natter about their roles on the team. "What about you?" The quiet boy standing just outside the circle worried her. He didn't look like he'd be very athletic, but then again, people always assumed she wasn't, and they couldn't be more wrong.  
  
"Me?" The blonde boy nervously played with a twig in his hand.  
  
"No, the other you," Sam said snidely, before softening her tone. "What's your name?"  
  
"Jonathon Bower," the boy provided.  
  
"And what position do you want to play, Johnny?" Having to walk him through every step was going to grow tired very quickly.  
  
"Jonathon," he supplied again. "And I don't know."  
  
"You don't care?" Sam asked, surprised that he had no preference.  
  
"No, I don't know. I don't know anything about baseball."  
  
A couple of the kids laughed, before they caught Sam's death glare directed at them.  
  
"Nothin'?"  
  
"No. But I can tell you about the history of the game," Jonathon offered. He looked shy and nervous, that much he was certain of. All the other kids were bigger than him, and they all seemed to have a better idea of what they were doing than he did. It certainly didn't bode well fro the scrawny brain from Connecticut, Jonathon decided.  
  
"Yeah, that and a good third baseman is all I need," Sam said quickly, before realizing how mean she sounded. "Look, squirt, you have to be good at something, so let's hear it."  
  
"Uh, I can." He was deep in thought. If anything, his athletic abilities have been anything but proven in the past.  
  
"I'll tutor him," Sam provided, tired of waiting. "He'll be our outfielder until we get him in to shape, and then we'll see."  
  
Jonathon sighed in relief.  
  
"He's never gonna be any good Micelli," Ricky's friend Ryan mumbled.  
  
"Oh, he will. He's got the best trainin' him." Sam smiled sweetly at the boy before standing. "Let's go get Shoo and tell her we're ready to canoe now." 2***  
  
"Guess what Grandma!?" Jonathon nearly shouted into the receiver. It was his second full day in camp and already he had so much to tell his mother and grandmother.  
  
"What?" Mona was happily surprised to hear such a cheerful tone in her grandson's voice. When he had left three days ago, he was almost in tears, not wanting to go and leave his mother, and as much as Mona wanted to believe it was homesickness, she knew all too well that more than anything, it was probably her grandson trying to keep an eye on his mother.  
  
"I'm on a baseball team! I'm an outfielder." He was beaming with pride.  
  
"Hey hey, little man, that's great. Do you know how to play baseball?" She hated to sound skeptical, but she had never seen evidence of him being able to so much as throw a ball, let alone catch one while running.  
  
"Nope. But Sam is gonna teach me," he provided.  
  
"Oh? And where's he from?"  
  
"She's from Brooklyn. She said she learned how to play baseball by flinging dead rats.Do you think we could go to Brooklyn?"  
  
Mona smiled. Leave it to her grandson to develop a crush on a little girl from the wrong side of the tracks; and leave it to her daughter to lose it when she finds out the kind of company he's in. "Well I'm glad you're having fun honey. Your mother isn't home from the office yet though, so she'll have to call you back when she gets home, or maybe in a day or two, okay?"  
  
"It's Sunday night. She's at work?"  
  
"Yeah, well you know her: work work work like there's no tomorrow."  
  
"I guess so," Jonathon agreed, still sad that he couldn't tell his mom how great things were going.  
  
"I love you, and take care okay? Watch out for errant baseballs," Mona teased.  
  
"I will. Love you too grandma," Jonathon said before hanging up the phone.  
  
Just as Mona returned the receiver to the cradle, she heard the slam of a car door, followed quickly by the opening of the back door.  
  
"Mother?"  
  
"Yeah, Angela?"  
  
"I saw a light on," she said, pushing through the swinging kitchen door, "and I wasn't sure if I was being robbed, or if you were just here to pillage whatever goods you could find."  
  
"I gave birth to you and your broad shoulders-anything I take is considered reparations, not theft," Mona said sweetly, her hand in a bowl of popcorn she had made earlier.  
  
She had planned on watching a movie with her daughter-she had planned on cheering her up and making her snap out of the self-involved reverie that Mona had anticipated. When she showed up on the doorstep though, she realized her daughter wasn't home, and upon checking for her briefcase, she knew exactly where she was.  
  
"What's the popcorn for?"  
  
"To throw at you," Mona smiled. "Why are you working on a Sunday?"  
  
"I figured that with Jonathon at camp, I might as well get ahead a bit and get some stuff done around the office that I haven't been able to do yet." Collapsing into the chair, Angela looked exhausted. It had only been about seven months since Michael last left for the jungle, with no word from him. Initially she cracked it up to nothing interesting to say, and then she realized that he had forgotten her birthday too. Angela was not impressed.  
  
"Sure, because you don't work hard enough the other ten months of the year. You should work harder during the summer. That makes sense." Mona snacked on a few more pieces of popcorn.  
  
"I just want things to go well. Rumour is that we are fast approaching a bid for the presidency, and I want to be on the list of candidates. If I work a little harder, they might notice the efforts a little sooner, and realize that I really am the one for the job."  
  
"And when was the last time you had any semblance of a social life?"  
  
"I went out to dinner on Thursday."  
  
"With your son, might I add? And by the way, he called tonight." Mona gave Angela that glare that she had been practicing for years-that look that said: don't throw your back out shoveling that crap on my behalf.  
  
"He called? Is everything okay?"  
  
"Well, he has taken up drinking.last night he was arrested by the camp police behind the outhouse for disorderly conduct. Then he tried to escape arrest, but yeah, more or less he's okay." Mona tried her hardest not to let her voice betray her. Most of her fun came from messing with Angela's mind.  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"Okay, okay, so he's fine. I guess he's on a baseball team now, trying not to be pelted by too many balls, and he's met a girl." Mona smiled.  
  
"What? He's only seven, how did he meet a girl?"  
  
"Well, you know, they don't segregate girls and boys any more. Don't you think it's about time he started courting a wife? Seriously, Angela, if this were the fifteen hundreds, we'd be finding a goat to trade in for a nice wife, and maybe some farm land."  
  
Angela glared at her mother.  
  
"It's all perfectly innocent, I assure you. They're just talking about baseball. She's teaching him how to play." Mona fingered through the popcorn, looking for some more with lots of butter. When she found the kernel, she held it up, eyed it, and then ferociously bit into it.  
  
"Stop playing with your food, mother, and tell me about this girl."  
  
Mona exaggerated her chewing motions before finally stopping and looking up. "She sounds perfectly nice. She is, after all, patient enough to teach your son how to catch a ball while standing upright and perhaps even running."  
  
"Her name?"  
  
"Sam."  
  
"What kind of name is that?"  
  
"Well, dear, I'd imagine it's a nickname, or a shortened form. For someone who has had as much education as you have, you sure aren't the brightest bulb, are you?"  
  
Angela stole a handful of popcorn. "I don't think I like this," she mumbled, before munching on the yellow misshapen balls.  
  
"Yeah, well get over it," Mona said, before taking another handful. "Face it, your little boy is growing up."  
  
"Too quickly."  
  
"Well, lucky you-I'm still waiting for you to grow up." Mona smiled and mischievously wiggled her eyebrows.  
  
Angela burst out laughing. "Thanks mother.thank you for that wonderful, heart felt comment."  
  
"Any time, my dear."  
  
3***  
  
"Hey, Bower, if I throw this to you, you need to catch it, otherwise I'm not throwin' it to you-I'm throwin' it at you." Sam smiled, her arm poised to throw the ball again. She'd already hit him three or four times, and although she was experiencing some guilt, she was also embracing the 'tough love laws of coaching' her dad had preached about. Sometimes, he had said, it was necessary to push somebody to get them to try harder-even if that pushing seemed kind of mean at the time.  
  
"You've already thrown it at me about a half dozen times.Can we give up now? I'm not meant for baseball," Jonathon countered.  
  
"Not with that attitude, you're not," Sam agreed. "Look, face it Bower, I've got to get you into baseball shape so we don't lose the season. Every one knows you're gonna be our weakest player, and so I've got to make you better. You're going to learn if I have to throw balls at you all day long until you catch one, capice?"  
  
Jonathon looked at her fearfully.  
  
"Listen kid, I'm not gonna break you, okay, but you have to learn."  
  
He still didn't seem convinced.  
  
"Look, if you get better before this weekend, when our parents come up, you won't even have to think about baseball for two whole days. Deal?"  
  
"How much better," Jonathon asked skeptically.  
  
"Maybe, let's say.catching the ball?"  
  
"Sam!?"  
  
"Four times in ten. That's my deal." She looked at him, hoping he'd take the deal. It was the best offer she could think to offer, and more importantly it was something that had to be done. So far he had only successfully caught the ball once, and even then it was only because he fell, and the ball managed to bounce off of his shoulder and into the leather glove.  
  
"Four times in ten. Forty percent," Jonathon said, thinking it over.  
  
"How is it you can do that, but you can't catch a ball?" She looked at him skeptically. He sure was a confusing little kid to have around.  
  
"Natural ability?" He smiled before putting his glove back on. "Okay. Four in ten, and this weekend off."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Let's go then," he said, waiting for the pounding pain of the first ball bouncing off of his flesh.  
  
"Okay, rule one: no closing your eyes before I pitch to you-you're definitely not going to catch it that way. Eyes open, and looking at me, got it?"  
  
Jonathon sighed. "I can't help it. I just.it just happens!"  
  
"Make it stop-you need to have eyes open if you're gonna be any use to us." Winding up again, she smiled when she noticed how hard he was trying to keep his eyes open. He was looking at her through little squinty eyes, but it was progress.  
  
4***  
  
"Hey, Tony," Mrs. Rossini called down from her window.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"When is Sam coming back from summer camp? You bringin' her home today?"  
  
"No," Tony said, trying to hide his disappointment. He had been lonely since she left two weeks ago, and had Mrs. Rossini not told him to let her go and enjoy some normal 'kid-stuff' Tony never would have let her out of his sight. Marie had been dead less than five months, and the idea of letting his daughter leave him as well. "She'll be coming home in eight weeks. Can you believe the summer ain't barely close to over yet?"  
  
Mrs. Rossini sighed. "Eh, Tony?"  
  
"I've got to get goin'," he said, feeling the stress of the conversation.  
  
"Just tell Sam I love her, 'kay?"  
  
"I will," Tony said, feeling his heart break. He never thought he'd have day visits with his daughter, even if it were just for one summer. Only being able to see Sam for two days a week was definitely not even close to his ideal, but from their phone conversations, he could tell it was doing her good to be away.  
  
***  
  
Pulling into the camp driveway, Tony wondered what had possessed him to listen to Mrs. Rossini. He understood that Sam needed to feel normal. He even understood that it was probably better that Sam be separated from the grieving for her mother. But he couldn't actually do it. It was killing him to not see her every day, and to not know for certain that she was okay.  
  
The sign over the gate that welcomed everyone made Tony feel childish for missing her so much. There was no way around it though-he wanted his Sambina back home.  
  
"Dad," he heard her call, as he pulled into the designated 'parent- parking'. He sighed, seeing all of the nicer, newer cars there as well, making him feel more than a little bit like an under achiever.  
  
Everything changed though, the second he saw his daughter come racing up to him, her arms open.  
  
"I've missed you," she said, smiling into his shoulder.  
  
"I've missed you too," Tony affirmed, wishing he never had to let ago. Every time he saw his daughter, he thought of his late wife. They were both so beautiful and so amazing, and to think that this little girl would have to grow up without a mother absolutely broke his heart.  
  
"Hey, you havin' fun?"  
  
"Yeah, it's great.I miss you though," she said again, trying to figure out how he was really doing.  
  
"I miss you too-it ain't the same at home without ya." Tony wasn't going to break down, he had told himself that a million times on his way up, and he wasn't about to break his own rule.  
  
"How's Mrs. R?"  
  
"Good, she sends her love and if I hadda let her, she would have sent you a bucket of ravioli." Tony appraised his daughter. "Maybe I shouldda let her-have you lost weight?"  
  
Sam knew the answer to the question. She just hadn't had much of an appetite since her mom died, but she wasn't about to tell that to her father. "Maybe a bit, but only 'cause I'm playin' baseball all day everyday, and canoeing and doing all these things.So much exercise, ya know?" It seemed like a good enough cover. After all, there wasn't really anything physically wrong with her.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Ok, but try to eat more or something-I don't want you to lose too much weight. It's not healthy, and Mrs. Rossini will go crazy." Tony and Sam laughed, thinking about how much they loved the middle aged crazy lady that lived below them.  
  
**  
  
"Oh my God, Jonathon, what happened to you?" Angela couldn't believe her eyes-there was her son, standing in front of her, with a black eye and a blue jaw.  
  
"I'm learning how to play baseball," he said happily, unable to understand his mother's anxiety.  
  
"And some of the other kids beat you up for not being very good?"  
  
"No," Jonathon said, confused as to why she'd jump to that conclusion.  
  
"Well somebody beat you up, and you had better tell me who!" Angela swooped down on him, her arms wrapping around him tightly.  
  
"No one beat me up," he managed, despite being able to feel the air escaping his lungs.  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
"I'm learning to play baseball. Sometimes I don't catch the ball with my hand. Sometimes I catch it with my face. It happens." Jonathon smiled at his mother, proud of himself for not being such a wuss about it. Back in the old days, or at least those before coming to camp, he would have been crying and welcoming all of the attention, but now, he wanted his mother to know he could handle it-he was getting tougher. Who knew, he might even be a jock in high school at this rate?  
  
"You don't catch balls with your face," Angela said sternly.  
  
"I know that now-but it took a few days to learn that. And it's easier said than done," Jonathon commented.  
  
"And the camp is letting this happen?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because! You look like someone has beaten you."  
  
"I'm fine," he said again.  
  
"I'm going to talk to your counselor, and I think maybe you should stop playing baseball with those kids. You're going to get hurt," Angela said finally.  
  
"No, I'm playing. I'm finally starting to get good-I have to play. I can't disappoint Sam like that!"  
  
Angela looked at him sternly before sighing. "Do I get to meet this Sam person?"  
  
"Sure! Oh, and I'll get to meet her dad!" Jonathon started bouncing around.  
  
"Her dad?"  
  
"He used to play baseball. Professionally. But then he got hurt," Jonathon told her, as he scanned the picnic area around them. There was no sign of Sam.  
  
"And what about her mother?"  
  
"Her mother died a few months ago. Her dad sent her here so she wouldn't have to see him sad." Jonathon felt sad just saying the words. It was such a horrible thing, he thought, to lose a parent, but to lose one and then be shipped off to camp.  
  
"Oh," Angela said, suddenly feeling bad for the little friend of her son. It wasn't like the girl was of a privileged family to start with, according to Mona, but she was motherless as well?  
  
"Well, I'm here because Dad's gone away again, and you couldn't find another nanny or housekeeper in time for the summer.so Sam and I have bonded over it."  
  
Angela's heart sank. She had tried to tell him that it was just because she wanted him to make friends, and she wanted him to enjoy the summer, but Jonathon had seen right through her. Jonathon knew that more than anything, it was staving off an inconvenience, which would have meant she'd need more time off.  
  
"Honey," Angela began, wanting to let him know that she really did love him, no matter what he thought.  
  
"I know, mom, it's okay." Taking her hand he led her towards the edge of the picnic area and in search of the Micellis.  
  
5***  
  
"Hey, Sam, where's your dad?" Jonathon looked around, hoping that he could spot her father.  
  
"He's gone," Sam said, straightening the hem of her t-shirt. "He, uh, he had to get back for work, but he says hi and he's lookin' forward to meetin' ya soon."  
  
Jonathon looked suddenly sullen. He had hoped to introduce his mother to the Micellis and he had been hoping to meet Sam's dad too. "Oh."  
  
"Look, Jay, I have to head back to my cabin. I'm not feelin' that well, and I think I just need to sleep."  
  
"Do you want me to bring my mom over? I bet she could make you feel better. She always knows how to do it for me." He was trying to be helpful, and more than anything he was trying not to let his friend stay sad. There was something heartbreaking about seeing her there, looking as upset as she was.  
  
"It's okay, but thanks for the offer. I think I'm just tired." Sam forced a smile before she turned and walked away. Her father hadn't been coping very well, and it bothered her that he insisted she be so far away from him. It was important to her that she get to talk to him and spend time with him, and at this time, when it was hardest on them both, she felt like he didn't need her around.or at least that he didn't want her around.  
  
"Feel better," he called after her, before making his way back to where he was supposed to meet his mother.  
  
**  
  
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Angela couldn't figure out why her son had been moping around since before dinner.  
  
"Sam's upset, and now she's not feeling well." Jonathon didn't expect his mother to understand. All things considered, he didn't expect her to even be nice about it, but he was upset. His best friend at camp was upset, and he couldn't think of any way of helping.  
  
"Why's she upset?"  
  
"Because.her dad is still real sad about her mother dying, and he's trying not to let her see it.and it's complicated," Jonathon said, looking away from his mother. "And her dad had to leave early so he could go back to work and now she's all alone again."  
  
"Well she'll feel better once she gets doing things again, right?" Angela was trying to sound convincing but she knew it was probably more complicated than that. "And she's not alone-she has you."  
  
"I don't know. She's been so upset because her dad won't talk to her about it."  
  
"It's hard for him, you know. It's not easy losing someone you love."  
  
"It's hard for her. She lost her mother."  
  
Angela sighed. "Are you going to go play with Ricky for a bit? I have a few things I'd like to do before I leave?"  
  
Jonathon looked at her, perplexed.  
  
"I'll come find you before I leave. Promise."  
  
Jonathon nodded before running off in the direction of cheerful yelling.  
  
"Okay, now, Angela, you've got to pull yourself together." Picking up her purse she walked off in the direction of the main station.  
  
**  
  
"Hi, I'd like to find out where one of your campers is."  
  
The guy, wearing a brown name badge shaped like a canoe, was apparently named Lou, and from behind his desk he seemed to be quite the short and stout.  
  
When he didn't reply, Angela decided she might need to further explain.  
  
"My son, Jonathon Bower, has a friend here who he says isn't feeling well and I'd just like to go check up on her to make sure she's alright." Angela hoped this wasn't about to be a giant process.  
  
"I assure you, Mrs. Bower, that if any of our campers are feeling under the weather, one of our counselors is aware of the situation and taking care of them."  
  
"Great," Angela said. "Now, I'd like to see her."  
  
"Mrs. Bower."  
  
"What cabin is she in?"  
  
"Who is she?" Lou seemed put out by the entire rigmarole.  
  
"Sam," Angela's answer seemed wholly definitive to her but his blank glare implied something else.  
  
"Last name?"  
  
"I uh, don't know." Lou gave her an ominous look. "She's from Brooklyn. Her dad used to play Baseball professionally."  
  
"Micelli," he said with sudden recognition. "She isn't sick. Her mom just died." Realizing how cruel he sounded, Lou tried to back track. "I mean, she's not ill." "What cabin is she in?"  
  
"She's in Dalhousie 3," he provided, still feeling bad about his 'mis- speak'.  
  
"Thank you, Lou," Angela said before leaving the cabin.  
  
6***  
  
"Uh, hello?" Angela walked into the dark cabin and waited until there was no response to turn on the light. Maybe Sam was feeling better already and went out to play.  
  
As the light filled the room, she noticed that there was a little girl lying in her bed with her sheets tucked around her chin. Even from the door, Angela could tell that she had been crying.  
  
"Samantha," she whispered, hoping that if the girl was only 'pretending' to be asleep that she'd be able to get her attention this way.  
  
"Who are you and what do you want?" Sam mumbled from beneath the sheets. Everyone had been too busy telling her to 'cheer up' and come to terms with her mother's death. Those were the last words she had wanted to hear.  
  
"Um, hi. My name is Angela Bower, I'm."  
  
Before Angela had an opportunity to finish her sentence, Sam shot bolt upright in bed. "You're Jay's mom. I told him I was fine. He didn't need to send you. I swear, I'm gonna kill him!" Sam bit her lip, realizing that her outburst was probably hardly endearing to Jonathon's mother-a woman who, from what Sam knew of Jonathon, probably never got upset in her entire life. "I'm.uh, I'm sorry," she told the stunned woman.  
  
"It's alright.but just so you know, he didn't send me. He told me you were upset and I thought I'd check in on you." Angela felt like she was towering over this frail creature, even with the girl sitting up and despite her outburst. She understood where Sam was coming from, and it was really bothering her.  
  
"Well, I'm fine, but thanks for coming Mrs. Bower." Sam crawled back in under her blankets and tucked them in beneath her chin again.  
  
"I don't really believe you," Angela said, even though the girl's eyes were closed. "Because I lost my father when I was young.and you know what? It still bothers me, so if you're fine now, I have to wonder what is really going through your mind."  
  
Sam's eyes snapped open. "You really think I want to talk to you about my dead mother? You really think that I want to tell you 'bout how she died and how much it hurts, when I know tonight you'll be getting back in your BMW and driving back to Connecticut and back to a massive house with beautiful furniture and you'll think 'wow, that little girl sure was messed up.'" Sam stopped for a breath. "I know that my dad works hard so he can make money to keep us alive. I know he works double shifts between a fish market and delivery, and I know that we still barely get by sometimes, but I know he loves me, and I know he makes time for me when he can. You go back to Connecticut and think about the trophy son you have and you think about all of the glitz and glam you have, and you send Jonathon off to another camp. You have money-you don't need to work to survive. But you work and Jonathon never sees you. So don't wonder what's 'going through my mind'. You don't wanna know." Sam buried her head in her pillow and fought back the tears she knew were coming. She was just waiting for the weight to shift in her bed, proving that Mrs. Bower was gone, before she came up for air and let it all out.  
  
But the weight didn't shift. And for a minute, Sam wondered if she had fallen asleep, because she couldn't tell if Angela was still there or not.  
  
Finally, peeking out over the edge of her pillow, Sam tried to look down without drawing the attention of the women who may or may not have still been there.  
  
"Sam, I know you think I'm a terrible mother," Angela said, hoping the girl couldn't see the tears that had stained her own face, "but I'm raising my son as well as I know how.and that isn't what I came here to talk about. I'm here because I know what it feels like to lose a parent. I lost my father when I was 13-just a couple of years older than you are-and I was so sad. I felt like my world crumbled around me. And I felt like no matter how hard I tried, I would always be that 'girl without a father' and I'd always be somehow less than all the other people who did have parents. And more than that, I felt like I was less of a person because I missed him so much, and the hole I felt in my heart made me cry. I can tell that you don't like me. I'm sorry about that because Jonathon thinks really highly of you, and I would have liked it if we could be friends too." Angela finally stood, tired of trying to reason with the girl in front of her, and tired of trying to rationalize her relationship with her son.  
  
As Angela walked towards the door, she felt her heart sink. She shouldn't have gone to the cabin, she knew, but she was oddly drawn to find out who this girl was.  
  
"I don't think you're a terrible mother," Sam called after her. "I just think you look at things differently than maybe you should.but Jonathon loves you a lot, so there's no way you can be terrible," she clarified.  
  
Angela felt her heart flutter. It was like she had made more progress than she thought.  
  
"See you next Sunday? You coming for the baseball game?"  
  
"What baseball game?" Angela turned back to face the girl, and then stopped.  
  
"The one that we're playing for the first time in front of an audience," Sam answered, before realizing Jonathon must not have told her anything about it. "Jonathon will be playing. I will too. He's been workin' really hard to learn how to play, and what to do. I'm pretty proud of him."  
  
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Angela said, smiling. "See you next week," she said, before leaving the girl behind and hoping that things actually went as well as she thought they did.  
  
7***  
  
"Hey, Bower, you ready to try again?" Sam kept passing the ball between her gloved (and not gloved) hands.  
  
"Sam, I was thinking. You should just give up on me. I'm never gonna be any good at this." Jonathon tried not to sound too disappointed but the truth was, he was enjoying the lessons, and he was getting better.at the same time though, he didn't want to disappoint Sam.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you do not give up because somethin's looking a bit hard. Nope. No way. You gotta just step up and keep practicing."  
  
"Yeah, but I barely managed to get my four in ten so I could have the weekend off."  
  
"You got 'em though, and that's all that matters." Sam pointed towards the spot where he should be standing. "Get over there, and we're gonna make it so you're not embarrassed to play this weekend."  
  
Jonathon took his position and tried to remember all the things Sam had told him: keep your eyes open, keep your eyes on the ball, and whatever you do, use the glove to catch the ball.  
  
"Okay, but if I can't do it, remember that it was your idea," Jonathon said, going through his mental check list once again.  
  
**  
  
"I can't believe you're dragging me to my grandson's ultimate humiliation," Mona complained, stepping out of the Jag. "Hey, this thing needs a paint job.I say you let me pick the colour."  
  
"Dessert taupe is perfectly nice, mother, and although it does need a paint job, you'll be the last person I'll choose to pick the colour." Straightening her light jacket over her, she smiled. "And this is not Jonathon's ultimate humiliation. I have a feeling he'll do alright."  
  
Mona emitted a grumble, and then followed her daughter. "I'm starting to see why you come visit Jonathon-there are many cute fathers around here. Heck, some of them even look like they'd be willing to date you," Mona said offhandedly.  
  
"Mother!"  
  
"It's true. Look, over there, that really hunky blonde one. He's your type. He's tall, and slim. And he still has all of his own hair." Mona smiled.  
  
"What makes you think he's my type?" She seemed almost insulted by her mother's selection.  
  
"He's boring enough."  
  
"Thanks again mother for your wonderfully supportive and uplifting manner." Angela checked her jacket one more time, afraid the linen would be too wrinkled to wear, leaving her with only a linen tank top she feared too thin to wear by itself. She certainly hadn't planned today's wardrobe well enough.  
  
"Well, then, who is your type?" Mona looked around the crowd trying to place someone for her daughter. "Stop fiddling with your jacket. Any luck and you will meet a guy here. You don't want to seem fidgety."  
  
Angela looked through the crowd of people, her only criterion that there not be any one hanging off of him, and he had to genuinely appeal to her.  
  
"He's really attractive," Angela said, pointing to a dark haired man, with a rather muscular build.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The one in the blue jeans and that blue button down." Angela couldn't help but notice the guy's butt when he turned around. "He's got a great butt too," she said before realizing.  
  
"Hey, hey, my little girl does have taste," Mona teased before silently appraising the man for her self. "His friend isn't bad either," she added. "Seriously, his friend looks a little more.rugged. And look how great he is with that little girl.That's the type of man every woman wants-a man who's great with children and handsome. If I were twenty years younger."  
  
"Mother!" Angela instantly recognized the little girl of whom her mother was speaking. The man, she decided, must be her father.  
  
"What?"  
  
Before Angela could respond, she built up her courage to go say hello to Sam.  
  
"Samantha?" Angela tried not to sound too eager, but her voice betrayed her.  
  
"Mrs. Bower, hi." Sam seemed a little shocked, but not displeased by the woman's presence.  
  
"Oh, eh, Mrs. Bower, huh? I'm Tony Micelli.Sam's told me a bit about you." Extending his hand, Tony smiled.  
  
"Angela," she corrected.  
  
"Mona," the fiery red head interjected, for once wondering if her daughter had the guts to approach a man of her own volition.  
  
Angela laughed. "This is my mother, Mona Robinson."  
  
After shaking hands everyone stood still, curious as to what they should do next.  
  
"Um, Samantha, have you seen Jonathon?" Angela couldn't stand the awkwardness. She had this urge to offer her condolences to Sam's father, but that seemed inappropriate coming from a total stranger.  
  
"Yeah, he's practicing with a few of the boys for the game. He's done real good this week."  
  
Angela smiled. "Well, I'm sure he owes that to you and your expert training."  
  
Sam almost seemed to blush.  
  
"He definitely doesn't owe it to you," Mona said, directing her comment to Angela, "because you have absolutely no co-ordination."  
  
Every laughed, including Angela, despite the forced nature of it.  
  
"I think I'm going to grab a drink and a seat then, and maybe we'll see you after the game?" Angela once again flattened the linen against her palm before signaling to Mona that she was ready to leave.  
  
"Yeah, that'd be great," Tony said, smiling. "It was real nice to meet you."  
  
"The pleasure was all ours," Mona said, winking at Tony and eliciting a laugh from him.  
  
**  
  
"I can't believe we won," Jonathon said, nearly jumping into his mother's arms.  
  
"You were so great, honey. You even caught a couple balls!" Angela encompassed him in a huge hug.  
  
"You did do very well little man," Mona said, trying to hide her surprise.  
  
Jonathon smiled, before wriggling out of the hug and looking around. "You guys seen Sam? I wanted to congratulate her on pitching a perfect game."  
  
Angela and Mona both shook their heads. "Sorry, but what do you think of us taking you champions out for a victory dinner? We'll sneak you off grounds for a couple of hours and get really big ice cream sundaes."  
  
Mona laughed. "I love a good jail break. Whatcha say kid?"  
  
"Really? That would be awesome," Jonathon began frantically looking around. "I'll go find Sam, ok?"  
  
Angela nodded and watched her son race off in search of his friend.  
  
"He seems pretty happy," Mona pointed out.  
  
"No thanks to me," Angela grumbled.  
  
"Get over the self pity-the kid loves you, and he's proud of you."  
  
"I know," Angela said, although sounding hardly convinced.  
  
8***  
  
"So then Sam told Mrs. Rossini that she never wanted to get married, Madonna Mia, that was a reaction worth taking a picture of," Tony said proudly.  
  
Sam blushed furiously. "I was four, and you still hold that against me! I swear, talk about torture."  
  
"Jonathon, aren't you happy that we don't remind you of things you did that were kinda silly or embarrassing?" Angela smiled at her son and winked.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. "I have stories about you, so it isn't safe," he said nonchalantly while he munched on more French fries.  
  
It was Angela's turn to blush. "So, Mrs. Bower, what do you guys do for fun in Connecticut?"  
  
Mona couldn't help herself-she had to offer an answer. "We go to New York City. We get as far away from Fairfield as possible."  
  
"Mother," Angela chided, but she knew, truth be told, Fairfield wasn't the most exciting place on the face of the planet.  
  
"Fairfield is beautiful," Tony said. "I did a delivery to the River Oaks Country Club. It was a great area."  
  
"Yeah, Dad couldn't stop talking about it for like, a week. It was real annoying." Sam poured more ketchup on her fries, and grabbed a pickle from the side of her plate. Pointing it at Jonathon, she began to talk again. "Can you believe he's never played street hockey?"  
  
"Samantha!" Tony looked at her crossly.  
  
"Sorry, excuse me," she said, directing her comments to Angela and Mona.  
  
Angela just offered a kind smile and then continued cutting her grilled chicken breast.  
  
"So, how do you like living in Brooklyn?" Mona realized the stupidity of her question.  
  
"It's home," Tony said quietly, hoping that nobody caught the less than enthusiastic expression on his face.  
  
"It's great, dad, right? I mean, we have all of our friends-I bet you wouldn't find another Tiny in Connecticut-we have our family, and we have our apartment. Brooklyn is home." It seemed like the necessary thing to say. Brooklyn was, after all, home. And more than anything in her life, it had been her constant safety net. There were some things in the city that just would never change.  
  
"Yeah, it is," Tony said with a smile.  
  
There was a nervous silence for a few minutes, while everyone went about their meal, chewing slowly and concentrating on the plates in front of them.  
  
"When camp is over, you guys should come over for dinner. We can do a barbeque and I can show you my lizard." Jonathon was beaming at the notion.  
  
"Ya think? Really? I'd get to see Connecticut for myself, huh?"  
  
All eyes shifted toward Angela. "Certainly," she said, pleased that Jonathon had found a friend he wanted to keep after the summer.  
  
"That's real nice of you," Tony said, considering the answer. He never thought he'd be invited to a barbeque in posh ol' Connecticut. That seemed so far out of the realm of probability that there was a little bit of wonderment attached to the idea.  
  
"Well, it would be fun," Angela replied, wondering if it was too strange of an invitation for him to accept.  
  
Mona watched the entire exchange and wondered what her daughter was up to. Angela never made social commitments out side of work, and she almost never had any type of communication with Jonathon's friends, or their parents.  
  
"This will be fun," Mona chipped in, still curious.  
  
9***  
  
"Mrs. R, I tell ya, she played a great game. She made it impossible for the other guys to even think about winning." Tony grinned as he continued to eat the cake she pushed upon him. "And she's been teaching this boy from Connecticut how to play ball-she's done pretty well, I think. I mean, I didn't see him play before, but from the way she describes him, he was pretty awful."  
  
"That's our Sammy," Carmella said as she cleared his plate. She had insisted he eat another meal, despite having already eaten. When she asked him what he ate, Tony gave her a skeptical look. 'Was it Italian,' she asked, and when he said no, she doled out more of her eggplant parmigiana.  
  
"Jonathon's a great kid. And his mom is real nice. She's a bigwig ad exec in the city-she's working towards becoming president."  
  
"Oh yeah?" She looked more than a little concerned about the type of people he had dinner with: a boy who couldn't play baseball naturally (a sin in itself) and a mother who is single and works full time in New York City. Heck, she was even trying to become President.  
  
"Look, they're real good people-the kind of people who you want to know. They're real nice and they have nothing but respect for us." Tony also wanted to mention that Angela was really quite attractive-he was sure that Mrs. Rossini had been imagining some haggardly toothless woman who was too unattractive to marry. That would be the only justification in her mind for a woman not to rope a good spouse.  
  
"I'm sure they are," she said impatiently, clearing the plate from in front of Tony and placing a new one in front of him. This time slicing off some cake from a platter in front of him, Carmella shoveled some cake on to his plate.  
  
"Really, they are. And Mona-Angela's mother-you'd love her. She's got a sense of humour like I've never seen before. Real funny lady." He could tell that she was losing her patience with him.  
  
"And how'd our girl look?" Heaping more of the spongey cake in front of him, Carmella finally helped herself to some coffee. She never thought that in a month she could miss that little girl so much.  
  
"She looked good. A little thin, but she has been runnin' around all the time, and she's eating camp food instead of good Italian food. She'll gain a bit of weight once she comes home." Tony couldn't help but be proud. And more than a little sad. But mostly, he was proud.  
  
"Thin? The girl didn't have anything to lose! I think next weekend you should let me come with you-I'll bring her a care package or two and that way she'll have some food to enjoy, okay?" She wasn't taking no for an answer, and the way she was holding the pie lift, there was no way she was going to let Tony consider a 'no'.  
  
"Mrs. R, I don't know where she'd keep one of your care packages. Their cabins ain't all that big."  
  
"I'll make space," Carmella said, as she sipped her coffee, still holding the lift in her hand.  
  
"Do you think that maybe you will be able to keep it really small?" He knew his pleading would fall on deaf ears, but it was worth a try. He couldn't think of any reason to not at least ask her to keep it minimized.  
  
"Oh, yeah, no problem," she said, shrugging her shoulders.  
  
He knew it would be a problem.  
  
10***  
  
"Mrs. R, I told you there ain't much space-did you have to pack this many things for her?" Tony hoisted another box of food out of the back of the van, making for number three.  
  
"I said I'd keep it small, and I did. She's got a week worth of meals here.and I called the camp manager.Lou, I think his name was.and he said she could keep some of it in the storage fridge. I had to promise him a box of food too, but it'll be worth it," she said, smiling broadly, proud of her achievement.  
  
"So that's why there's four boxes?" Tony looked reluctant, stacking the boxes one atop the others.  
  
"The girl has to eat," she said seriously, as if there really was a concern about her starving to death.  
  
Tony just smiled, and continued to stack the boxes so that he'd be able to carry them. There was no use fighting her, and if all else failed it would be a nice change for the camp-there was enough Italian food for a month at least.  
  
"Tony!" A woman's voice called, and then he realized who it was. He hadn't really anticipated seeing her again, and it surprised him that he was actually very happy about it.  
  
"Angela, nice to see you again," he said, as he reached out a hand to shake her proffered one.  
  
"You too. It's been a crazy week. I'm looking forward to watching the kids play for a bit." She never thought she'd find baseball interesting, but last week Tony sat with her and explained all of the plays to her, making sure she understood what had been good, and what was bad. His crash course tutorial made it much more interesting.  
  
"I know what ya mean," Tony agreed. It had been fun to concentrate on something other than how bitter he was.  
  
"Ahem," Carmella exaggerated the sound of clearing her throat.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Tony said, snapping out of his own little world. "Mrs. Rossini, this is Angela Bower, Jonathon's mother."  
  
"You're awful thin. You eat much?" Carmella sized Angela up while giving her a bone crushing hug, visibly disturbed by the woman's weight.  
  
Angela smiled nervously, unaccustomed to being attacked by Italian women. "Uh, yeah, two times a day, seven days a week," she replied, wondering who the crazy old woman was, and if there was any reason as to why she was now insulting her.  
  
"Ah, commitment problems," Mrs. Rossini said, almost writing Angela off totally. She went about sorting a bag of groceries she had in her arms.  
  
"Excuse me?" To say that Angela was mortified was an understatement. This woman who had just met her had just told her that she had commitment problems. Out of thin air. No good reason.  
  
Tony sighed, knowing that this was a huge mistake. Mrs. R and Angela were two totally different women, and by putting them in the same place at the same time, he was endangering his own sanity.  
  
"You skip breakfast: means you got a commitment problem," Carmella announced, blasé about the whole situation.  
  
"I skip breakfast because I don't really like many breakfast foods," Angela clarified. Had she known that he had a crazy friend around, she would never have walked up to talk to him, Angela decided. This lunatic was upsetting her.  
  
Mrs. Rossini once again sized Angela up. "Come with me and Tony, we find your son, we feed you both. You just need some good Italian cooking to get you back on track."  
  
Angela stood, flabbergasted that anyone could ever be so rude, watching the stout raven-haired woman make her way towards the picnic area with several bags.  
  
"I gotta apologize for her," Tony said quickly. "She doesn't realize that not everyone's Italian, ya know?"  
  
She suddenly felt petty for her 'hurt feelings'. "Oh, don't be silly. Don't apologize. I probably do have commitment issues, and I am kinda like a ten year old boy otherwise," Angela said, trying to joke. It never failed to bother her that she would start to build confidence, and she would start to feel attractive, and some ding-dong would blow it by making her feel plain, and not curvy enough in the right places.  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, you're beautiful," Tony countered, angry that she had so little confidence. "Mrs. R. just thinks that everyone should be.her. And it's better that the world isn't full of more copies of her, 'cause we'd be at war all the time about marinara sauces. So don't let her upset ya, okay?"  
  
Angela couldn't help but laugh at Tony's description. "I couldn't tell a marinara sauce from.just about anything else. I know it's red. And I know that it's great for shrimp."  
  
"That's a different sauce," Tony corrected, "but you got the right idea."  
  
Walking to Mrs. Rossini, Tony felt the need to explain some fundamentals to Angela. "Just ignore anything she says, and remember that she's probably just trying to help. My wife used to say that Mrs. R only wanted the world to be beautiful and Italian, although I admit I have to wonder if there is more to it."  
  
Angela felt more comfortable with Tony than she had ever expected she could with someone from Brooklyn, who drove a fish van.  
  
"Thanks," Angela said, hoping that Tony would understand.  
  
"Any time," he smiled, before leading the way to the waiting critic.  
  
**  
  
"Mrs. R," Sam called, as she saw her favourite Brooklyn neighbour standing at the picnic table, setting a meal of at least four courses.  
  
"Sambina," she replied, looking around for her, anxiously pulling her into a tight hug when the girl finally got to her. "How are you doin'?"  
  
"Great. I'm having a really great time," Sam answered, smiling. It wasn't a total untruth. She was enjoying all the baseball and all of the activities. She could have lived without the distance from her father though.  
  
"You've lost weight." Her voice was nearing scolding and from where Angela was standing, it was almost more intimidating than her run in with the woman earlier.  
  
"I'm exercising more. Lots of running, and baseball. Don't worry, I eat plenty." Sam seemed to pacify Carmella with a saccharine sweet smile, which made Angela jealous.  
  
"Still."  
  
"No still, Mrs. R. I'm fine, I promise." Sam checked out the picnic table. "'Sides, I'm about to gain about fifteen pounds by the looks of the food on this table."  
  
Tony laughed. His daughter always did have a way of handling the Rossinis that made him stand back in shock.  
  
"Hey mom," Jonathon said, appearing at Angela's side from out of nowhere.  
  
"You must be Jonathon," Carmella rushed to him and encompassed him in a hug as well. "Oh, you're so skinny too-do they feed ya in Connecticut?"  
  
Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Mrs. R, they're fine. They just don't eat ten times a day like we do."  
  
The woman gave Sam a look as if to suggest that they should be more like them.  
  
"Let's eat," Tony interrupted, hoping this wouldn't be a total loss.  
  
11***  
  
"I met the most interesting woman," Angela announced falling onto a seat on the couch.  
  
"If you're telling me you're a lesbian, then maybe you should come up with a better way than that." Mona sipped her tea and wondered what her daughter really meant.  
  
"Mother!" Sometimes, Angela thought, her mother could be the most impossible woman on the face of the planet.  
  
"Okay, so you're obviously still not getting any action. Who is this interesting woman you met?" Mona wiggled her eyebrows.  
  
"Hold on: first thing. Why does it matter if I'm getting 'any action' or not? I'm happy right now, and I think it's a little unfair of you to treat me like an outcast just because I don't bring three new men home a week!" Her self confidence had taken too much of a beating today already and the continuance of abuse was not what she wanted to deal with now that she was in her own home.  
  
"Whoa, what happened to you today? You normally aren't quite so temperamental when I tease you." Her daughter obviously had something to tell her.  
  
"Nothing. I've just taken enough abuse. This woman I was going to tell you about. Her name is Mrs. Rossini and she's Tony and Sam's neighbour from Brooklyn. I guess she and you would get along well. She likes to abuse me as well." Angela laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"She thinks I'm too thin, too 'un-Italian', and she thinks I have the strangest of priorities. She can't understand why I'm no longer with Michael, and she thinks that it's odd for a woman to only have one child." Angela went through the list of all the things that were 'wrong' with her. It was too long of a list to detail everything, but she had managed all of the major factors.  
  
Mona looked at Angela, realizing how much it had upset her to be picked a part by an absolute stranger.  
  
"I'm sure lots of people think of me that way, but most wouldn't actually detail everything that's wrong with me. It just really.upset me to hear her list of some of the things that really bothered me about my life being dissected by a friend of Tony's."  
  
"What's been bothering you about your life? I thought you were happy?"  
  
"With some things. I wanted more children, but Michael barely wanted Jonathon. I wanted a husband beside me, to come home to, who loved me. I wanted to be attractive, and of all things that I have, those aren't on the list. I've forfeited most of my real desires for my career."  
  
Mona sighed before moving in to wrap her daughter in a hug. Of all the things she needed, that was the least Mona could do to try and cheer her up.  
  
**  
  
"Mrs. R, you have to go easier on people. Angela and Jonathon-they're good people. They're the kind of people we're lucky to know, so please, next time don't go so hard on her, okay?" She poured some more coffee into his cup while he made his plea, which he was certain would fall on deaf ears.  
  
"I wasn't hard on them. Jonathon's a good boy. A little thin and a little girly, but good." Topping her own cup, she settled into her chair.  
  
"That's exactly what I mean. Every compliment comes with some underhanded comment. Or you say something like Angela has commitment problems. I don't know her that well, but if she does, then that's her problem. Don't call her on it."  
  
"I didn't say anything to her that I wouldn't say to any one else. Why should she be any different?"  
  
"'Cause she is. She's not from around here. I don't think Angela will fight back. You're makin' her life harder than it needs to be."  
  
Mrs. Rossini laughed. "You think this Connecticut woman might want to be a friend?"  
  
"I think that our kids really enjoy playing together. I ain't seen Sam this happy since Marie died, and if it means she wants to play with Jonathon and be around Angela then I'll do it." Tony sighed. He didn't want to bring up his wife, but it seemed like he didn't have a chance around it.  
  
"She wouldn't want you to sell out your friends here for Sam."  
  
"That's not what I'm doing," he countered, before giving up on her.  
  
**  
  
"Jonathon, good catch!" Sam watched as he gripped the ball proudly.  
  
"Thanks!" Racing up to her, Jonathon showed her the ball once again. "I guess you just had to beat me into practicing more," he laughed.  
  
"Yeah, well it's been fun." She wondered if it was worth mentioning-a little thing that had been bothering her since their parents had left. "Hey Bower?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"It didn't go so well over dinner tonight, did it?"  
  
Jonathon fingered the stitching of the ball. "Well."  
  
"You saw it too?"  
  
"Mrs. Rossini didn't seem to like me or my mom that much." Placing the ball back in the glove he rethought the events of dinner.  
  
"I kinda noticed your mom seemed uncomfortable too."  
  
"I don't know what it's all about, really." After a moment though, he appeared to have thought of something. "But my mom is kind of insecure around new people. She's really tough at work, but sometimes she doesn't handle things personally very well."  
  
Sam looked at him perplexed.  
  
"When she was younger she was fat, and she was awkward, I guess, so now she has flashbacks or something to then."  
  
"Your mom could never have been fat! She's so refined and beautiful." Sam thought he had gotten his facts confused, which wasn't something she much enjoyed.  
  
"No, she was. I've seen pictures, and I've heard stories. She was fat." He laughed. "And she was very insecure back then."  
  
"Well then I gotta talk to Mrs. R and make sure that if they ever meet up again, she's a little nicer to your mom." The wheels were spinning in Sam's head. She had to make things go well between Angela and Mrs. Rossini- they were both good women and the last thing she wanted was a Connecticut v. Brooklyn war. She smiled at the thought: women in aprons with ladles in their hands against women with briefcases in their hands, armed with staplers and other office paraphernalia.  
  
"What are you smilin' about?"  
  
"Just what might happen if Brooklyn met Connecticut ever." Sam was still in her dazed state, amused by the images she kept conjuring.  
  
"Ok, now you're scaring me," Jonathon said with a horrified look on his face. He knew that all things considered, he and Sam probably shouldn't be friends and more than anything that their friendship defied logic in their parents' minds.  
  
12***  
  
"Eh oh, oh eh, what do you think you're doin'?" Tony laughed at the way Angela was attempting to eat pizza. "A knife and a fork?"  
  
"I'd rather not drip sauce down my shirt," Angela said blushing, wondering if it could really be that big of a sin to eat it with flatware.  
  
Tony couldn't help but grin. "You eat it that way, and Mrs. Rossini's WASP sense will go off and she'll be here in about three seconds flat-ya know, she's gotta save the world from all the wrong being done against the Italian community."  
  
Angela quickly dropped the fork and knife, and looked at the pizza before her.  
  
"Wow, that worked," Tony teased.  
  
She suddenly felt bad. "It's not that." She was trying to come up with a story-an explanation of some sort-but her mind was spinning. Angela had no clue what to say.  
  
"Don't worry. I lived with Mrs. Rossini after my grandfather died, and she had that effect on me too." Tony picked up his slice of pizza and took a bite.  
  
"She's a lovely woman," Angela tried to cover.  
  
"She's loud, and she's rude sometimes, but yeah, she is wonderful. You just gotta know how to handle her. You take what she says with a grain of salt, and you remember that she really does mean well."  
  
"Sam handles her well," Angela observed, wondering how much the boisterous Italian woman had to do with raising the girl.  
  
"Well when I was on the road she spent a lot of time with her. Sometimes a little too much time. I mean, I wish I could have been there for her and Marie, but I just.I guess I had the wrong priorities." There was no way for Tony to deny how much he regretted being away from his wife and daughter so much. Hind sight is twenty twenty, and Tony realized right after Marie died that he had squandered an opportunity to be with his family.  
  
"Did your wife and Mrs. Rossini get along well?"  
  
"Marie was like her daughter," Tony laughed. "Sometimes I thought that there were two Mrs. Rossini's nagging me. But it was all just because I can be too stubborn."  
  
"You, stubborn?" Angela grinned, hoping he caught the teasing tone in her voice.  
  
"Hey, mom? You guys done yet?" Jonathon threw the Frisbee towards Sam, watching as it crashed towards the ground.  
  
Angela looked in the direction of the voice, having momentarily forgotten where she was-at the campgrounds, with her son, and her son's friend and her father. "We're almost done. Do you and Sam want to go for a drive later?"  
  
Jonathon looked at Sam, who shook her head no. "I'd rather go canoeing."  
  
Tony looked at the expression of dismay on Angela's face. "Any reason in particular you'd rather not go canoeing."  
  
"I used to be oar girl at the country club, and one day I accidentally sent out an elderly couple with out oars." Angela put the half eaten pizza crust down on her plate and waited for Tony's reaction.  
  
"Okay, well then we need to break you of the phobia." Grabbing her hand and almost dragging her behind him, Tony trudged off in the direction of the kids.  
  
"I'd rather not," Angela mumbled.  
  
"I'll make sure we have both oars," he countered, laughing when the kids raced towards the beach.  
  
13***  
  
"Okay, so I might have forgotten to mention that the place is a dump," Angela laughed, as she opened the door to 3344 Oakhills drive. "I'm in between housekeepers and nannies right now, and I don't have time to do the cleaning. My mother doesn't help either."  
  
Tony thought she was joking-a powerful advertising executive and she couldn't keep the house tidy? When he stepped inside, though, she could see the expression of dismay on his face.  
  
"I know. It's really bad. There are at least three inches of dust on every surface, and I don't even want to describe the state of the furniture." Angela suddenly wondered what possessed her to invite Tony back to the house. She thought that it would be nice for him to get out. Maybe they could just relax and for once not worry about bug bites in inconvenient places or bad weather-for once he could be distracted from his grief over his late wife.  
  
"It's a nice house," Tony tried to add emphasis to just how nice it was. It really was nice-nicer than anything he had ever been in before. It was massive, and had an enormous front yard. It even had the cliché white picket fence.  
  
"My husband and I bought it right after we got married. It was my way of telling him I was ready to settle down and have a family-one big house, four bedrooms, only two of us. The plan didn't really work." Angela laughed it off, still bewildered by how she could feel so open with Tony.  
  
"He didn't want a big family?"  
  
"He didn't want a family," Angela said plainly, hoping she didn't sound as resentful as she actually was. "Jonathon came as a surprise to him, of all things. He honestly didn't expect us to really build a family."  
  
Tony wished he didn't feel bad for her. Of all emotions, that probably seemed like the least appropriate reaction. "I know what it's like to have your heart set on something," he began, before realizing he was treading on very thin ice. If he started talking about Marie-really talking about her- he wasn't sure that he wouldn't break down.  
  
"I'm sorry," Angela said, before finding her way to the couch. "I know that my problems with Michael are really trivial compared to what you've been through."  
  
"They're not trivial," Tony argued quickly. "They're just a different kind of pain-you know what I mean? When Marie died, I felt this emptiness-like the space in my heart that could feel love was empty. I still feel empty, and I still wonder if I can feel love. I don't doubt for a minute that if she were alive for another hundred years, that we'd still be together then. But she died. Cancer took her away and there isn't anything I can do now 'cept to keep strong for Sam."  
  
Angela could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. She hadn't expected such an impassioned confession from him, nor had she expected him to be so forthright with her.  
  
"When Michael left, it was different. I mean, it was painful because I thought we were going to be together forever, and we barely made eight years. I thought that he'd be in Jonathon's life and then he was gone, and it isn't even like he left me officially-I think that's what makes it worse. Instead, he disappeared into the jungle, and I've heard from him maybe twice since. Things are over between us, I know, but it hurts. And as petty as it sounds, I think I'm upset that I failed so badly."  
  
A few minutes passed in silence before Tony could bring himself to speak. "We really are pathetic," he joked. "I'm upset about my dead wife and you're upset about your absent husband, and we're both sitting here complaining when we have the advantage. We're still alive-we should do somethin' fun!"  
  
Angela couldn't help but laugh. "And what would that something be?" She realized, after the fact of course, when it was too late, that she was flirting with the father of her son's friend, and more importantly, a recent widower. "I mean, do you have any ideas?"  
  
Tony grinned. "What do you guys do around here for fun? I bet they wouldn't let a Brooklyn bum like me into their country club, so what else do you do?"  
  
"You could go to the country club with me. We could go and have drinks with the Saturday night crowd." Angela knew it was a lame suggestion, but then again, it was better lame than to flirt with him, she decided.  
  
"My daughter and country clubs-I swear you'd think she was a seventy year old man sometimes." Mona made her presence known in her typical way-she was loud and more importantly she was excited to see her daughter in the living room with an incredibly attractive man.  
  
Tony released an endearing laugh and then glanced at Angela. "I don' think any one could confuse her with an old man."  
  
Angela blushed, much to her chagrin. "Mother, this is Tony Micelli, Samantha's father, remember?"  
  
"Of course I do," Mona said as she sized Tony up. "I never forget a handsome man." Winking at him, she took a seat beside her daughter.  
  
"So you're not going to the country club-that's too boring. Hey! I have a brilliant idea!" The flamboyance of her voice unnerved Angela. "You guys could go to Mac's."  
  
Angela looked at her mother, still wondering if she really could have come from Mona's womb.  
  
"Mac's?"  
  
"It's a music bar just about a half hour from here-they play wonderful music, and they have great food. There's even a nice boring martini bar there, should you want to do something familiar, Angela." Winking at her daughter, Angela began to wonder how unhealthy it could be to listen to her mother.  
  
"Sounds like a plan. How do we get there?" Tony sat on the edge of his seat, looking for the opportunity to see more of Connecticut.  
  
Mona rattled off instructions while Angela thought through how badly this could turn out.  
  
**  
  
"I can't believe your mother recommended this place," Tony said in awe as he looked around the club.  
  
"Everything is set up like an old forty's music bar," Angela said as even she was overwhelmed by the environment.  
  
Strains from a band at the front played Sinatra songs and the men at the bar were all dressed in proper attire like little penguins, Tony thought.  
  
"Your mother sure knows how to pick 'em," Tony remarked, before allowing a waiter to seat them at a table a few back from the stage.  
  
"Apparently-she's never told me about this place before." Trying to absorb the atmosphere of the club she felt overwhelmed by the time-warp feelings.  
  
A few minutes of silence passed before a waiter dressed in his neatly arranged tux appeared at their table. "Is there anything I can get for you good people," he asked very comfortably, as if life in a tux was normal.  
  
"I'd like a crantini, please," Angela asked, feeling somewhat ashamed of her girlish order.  
  
"And I'd like a beer, please," Tony smiled, wondering if he was ordering something too low class for the bar-he already felt out of place.  
  
"We have seventeen kinds of beer here sir, seven on tap-any preference or do you want me to surprise you?" The waiter smiled kindly, making Tony feel less out of place.  
  
Tony just nodded appreciatively and then went back to basking in the atmosphere. "You'd think this place was really from the forties," he said without thought.  
  
"It's amazing, that's for sure," Angela agreed, wondering if he'd ever been to a nice restaurant, let alone a theme bar. Then again, she could honestly say she had never been to a theme bar either.  
  
"So do you think we can be friends? I mean, can you be friends with a Brooklyn fish truck driver and delivery guy? I mean, I understand that you're Connecticut through and through, and I'm pretty New York."  
  
"I'd like us to be friends," Angela said, wondering if they actually could be friends, or if the culture shock would be too great.  
  
"The kids have been really good for each other," he admitted. "I've not seen Sam this dedicated to anything since Marie died, and now she's teaching Jonathon how to play."  
  
"Jonathon's finally doing something with the other kids other than digging for bugs. That comes as a huge relief for me." She smiled and wondered what the children knew about life that she and Tony didn't.  
  
Their drinks were placed gingerly before them, while strains of classic Sinatra songs filled the room.  
  
"To friendship," Angela toasted, her glass raised.  
  
"To friendship," Tony agreed, clinking his glass against hers.  
  
14***  
  
"I can't believe the summer's over," Jonathon complained. "I was finally getting good at baseball."  
  
"Yeah, well you can still play-just because the summer's over doesn't mean you can't still play." Sam felt the same kind of disappointment as Jonathon, but wasn't willing to let it show. She seemed to be getting better at losing people.  
  
"It's not the same without you," he said truthfully, and Sam knew what he meant. It had been a long summer, and it had been a wonderful opportunity. Despite everything that had made her anxious, there was some comfort in knowing that on the weekend there would be a visit with her father, and Jonathon's mother, and that they'd do dinner together before everyone would leave. The stability of it all had been what kept them all together, and now it was almost over. There were two days until the weekend would arrive, and their parents would be coming to pick them up to take them home.  
  
"You think we'll keep in touch?"  
  
"I don't know. Brooklyn is pretty far from Fairfield." Jonathon drew a mental map, wondering how many miles there would be between him and his best friend. "I'm really going to miss you," he said finally.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you too," she admitted. Jonathon had quickly become family. She picked on him, she teased him, and sometimes she'd yell at him, but all in all, he was family, and she knew it wouldn't be easy.  
  
*-*-*  
  
"I can't believe Jonathon is coming home," Angela said, propping the phone between her chin and her shoulder.  
  
"I know. I'm so excited that Sam will be back. I'm even takin' a couple of days off just to be with her." Tony would miss the phone calls that he shared with Angela through the week. It was their way of keeping each other company, and keeping in touch about the kids between visits.  
  
"She'll love that," Angela said truthfully, wishing she had that kind of motivation to take time off work. Jonathon would probably appreciate it, but then again that would also mean falling several days behind at work and having to reaffirm the standard belief around the office that she really was a woman, and in turn a mother.  
  
"Jonathon would love it too," Tony said not so subtly.  
  
"I know," was all she could say before the wheels started spinning. "You can't afford to take days off." There was a pause.  
  
"Tony, what aren't you telling me?" Something about the entire situation didn't seem right.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"We've become friends over this summer, and we've talked about just about everything you could imagine, and now you're getting all quiet on me?" Angela wished they were in the same room. It seemed like it would be easier to get a reply out of him if they were together.  
  
"My delivery job-it's over. They asked me to work an extra three hours a night, which would mean that I'd never be home for Sam. When I said no, they said goodbye." Tony didn't sound as shaken as he thought he would. He half expected to cry out of sheer stress and nervousness, but then again he had never felt comfortable crying in front of someone-even over the phone seemed a stretch.  
  
"They can't do that!" Angela was mortified by how badly they were treating him. Tony was a good guy-a very good guy-and they were treating him like he was just a irresponsible teenager.  
  
"They did. Look, it's probably for the best. I'd rather it not work out that way, but I can't change it." Tony didn't want to tell her the part about having to pick up extra shifts at the fish market once Sam got settled in again, or about having to borrow money from his father in law who he hated.  
  
"Oh, Tony, you should have told me.I might have been able to help." Angela felt genuinely bad for him-he was finally getting ahead-or at least, he was finally enjoying an opportunity to build some stability-everything was falling apart.  
  
"What? You want to give me a job at your agency?" He laughed at his own joke, thankful that he had a friend like her, but still a little surprised that she seemed to think things were that cut and dry.  
  
"No, but I have a different offer." She had never thought of the agency. Jim Peterson would probably blow a gasket. Thanks to her mother, however, she had thought of something else.  
  
"Okay, but I hope it beats Frank's offer-he said fifty bucks for a kidney, and thirty if I wanted anesthetic before he took it."  
  
Angela gasped.  
  
"I'm joking. I promise."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You're too funny Angela Bower, I'm tellin' ya." Tony grinned. She really was so naïve sometimes.  
  
"I'm glad I amuse you," she countered. "Anyway, here's my offer: I need someone around here to keep the place up and keep Jonathon, Mother and me in line. You need a job. What do you think?"  
  
Tony was confused. What was she telling him? What was her brilliant idea?  
  
"I need a housekeeper, and I'm willing to provide room and board for you and Sam of course, as well as Salary. So?" When Mona had first mentioned it to her, Angela had laughed out loud at the mere image of Tony in an apron. But then as they grew closer she began to wonder if it might not be for the best.  
  
"You want me to be your housekeeper?"  
  
"I want you to not only have a good job that pays well and provides you a few perks, but I want Sam to get a good deal too. Don't you think she'd like growing up in Fairfield?"  
  
"But me? A housekeeper?"  
  
"Think of it this way: the money wouldn't be so bad. You would have all the amenities just at your door. You'd each have your own room, and covered parking as well as a salary. You get full medical and dental as well." Angela waited a moment, hoping to hear something other than the deafening silence over the line. "Tony, this is just a suggestion, and I don't want you to feel obligated by it. I know you have a lot of things to consider, but I just want you to know I wouldn't offer if I didn't think it'd work."  
  
Tony wondered if she was sitting in the living room or in the kitchen, and where ever she was, if she was chewing her lower lip. That was probably one of her most endearing traits. "Okay."  
  
"You'll think about it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I'll take it," Tony said trying not to sound too sullen.  
  
"Really?" It was Angela's turn to try and hide her actual emotions when she suddenly felt a rush of excitement.  
  
"Really. When we pick up the kids, we'll move in, if that's okay?"  
  
"It's more than okay," Angela assured him.  
  
"Alright then." Tony hesitated. "Thank you Angela for being so good to us."  
  
Angela blushed, but was thankful that he couldn't see her. "Any time."  
  
"So I'll see you soon then."  
  
"Take care of yourself Tony," she said as she hung up, more than a little elated at the idea of a very attractive male housekeeper who was also her friend.  
  
Sometimes things just had a way of working themselves out. 


End file.
